


Everything Has Come Undone

by turps



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ben has to watch, Incest, M/M, past ben/klaus/diego
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 22:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17886668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: Reconnecting is fun, except when it isn't.





	Everything Has Come Undone

“Technically, I’d say this is a threesome,” Klaus states as he stretches, at least tries to. His bed isn’t the biggest and right now, a sleeping Diego is taking up a lot of the space. “Don’t you think so?”

“I think that usually a threesome involves sex.” Ben crosses his feet at the ankles, looking comfortable despite being balanced against the edge of a desk. “No sex is happening, so, no threesome.”

“But it could happen,” Klaus says, indicating Diego with a grand swipe of his hand. “And when it does: threesome.”

“He could wake up and go, you don’t even know why he’s here in the first place,” Ben points out, sounding far too reasonable and _Benlike_. Sometimes Klaus wonders what he did to be stuck with his own personal buzzkill, at others, he knows without Ben, Klaus would have died long before. Plus, Klaus would miss him terribly, even if Ben is annoyingly pedantic about threesomes. 

“Or, he could stay,” Klaus says and reaches out so he can rest the palm of his hand against Diego's bare shoulder. It’s barely a touch, a whisper of sensation and Klaus looks at Ben all the while. “You could both stay.”

“I could,” Ben agrees, and outwardly he’s all nonchalance and guarded expression, but Klaus _knows_ him. People think that Klaus doesn’t take notice, and okay, often he doesn’t, but he does when things are important; like now.

“Yes, you could.” Klaus moves his hand, never looking away from Ben as he does so. Diego’s skin is soft, crisscrossed with scar tissue in places and Klaus pulls in a breath when Diego opens his eyes.

“I was sleeping.” Diego yawns, but makes no attempt to move, just lies still, warm under Klaus’ touch. “You woke me.”

“Not sorry,” Klaus says, trailing his hand over Diego’s shoulder and onto his clavicle, keeps going so his fingertips rest over his throat. Klaus can feel Diego breathing, imagines the flow of blood hidden under his skin, so beautifully and unequivocally alive. 

Diego snorts out a laugh, lazy as he looks up at Klaus and says, “You’re never sorry, but you could make it up to me.”

It’s not true, Klaus is sorry for lots of things, it’s just pointless bringing them up. It’s why he smiles and pretend sighs. “If I have to.”

“You do,” Diego says, but he’s watching Klaus intently, giving him the chance to say no. He always gives the chance to say no, has from the start, and that’s one of the reasons that Klaus always says, yes. 

It takes Klaus all of a moment to roll onto his knees, movements sure as he straddles Diego, memories of the past meshing with this new now. The feel of Diego’s body, how he’s solid and grounded and _here_. Klaus rests his hands on Diego’s shoulders, taking him in, and knows that Diego isn’t the same person he was back then, he looks different, is different -- but this still feels right.

“I should go,” Ben says, and sometime in the last minute he’s stood and approached the bed, hands shoved deep in his pockets and expression shuttered in a way Klaus hates to see. “This… He doesn’t know that I’m here. It’s wrong that I'm watching.”

Klaus wants to protest, but how can he? Attention scattered, already hard and wanting, he tries to narrow his focus, trying to work out how to get Ben to stay without using words. At least words not spoken to Ben, and Klaus knows what he needs to do.

“Remember the first time with Ben?” Klaus says, and knows this is a risk as Diego stills, the pain of loss momentarily flitting over his face. “When we both seduced you?”

“It didn’t happen that way,” Diego says, grabbing hold of Klaus’ wrists, his grip solid and unbreakable. “Not unless me finding you jerking off to porn was your version of seduction.”

“It could have been,” Klaus says, and remembers hours spent in his room, tucked up in bed with a stolen porn magazine in one hand and his dick, slippery with spit in the other. “You seemed to like it.”

“You looked good,” Diego admits, and shrugs, tightening his grip as he thrusts up, grinding against Klaus. “And even better when you started blushing like a girl when Ben followed me into your room.”

“That’s sexist,” Klaus points out, and then, “And I wasn’t blushing, I was overexerted.”

“Course you were,” Diego says with a grin. “Because jerking off was so exhausting.”

“It was the amount of times I did it.” Klaus arches his back, biting back a moan at the resulting drag of material against his dick. It’s also a move that lets him see Ben, who’s remained frozen in place, never looking away from Diego and Klaus. “I’m surprised I never got carpal tunnel. It’s why you and Ben had to take over.”

“Is that why?” Diego laughs then, but something short, stuttered as Klaus grinds against him again. “I seem to remember you begging us to touch you.”

“Not that first time,” because yeah, Klaus wasn’t that forward -- not back then anyway, and not when an unadvised surprise move could have resulted in a knife in his back or a tentacle crushing his throat. “But after, yeah.”

“You looked good when you begged,” Diego says, and his eyes are half closed, attention obviously spread between now and memories of back then. “Ben thought so, too.”

“You did,” Ben agrees, and he reaches out without touching, wistful in a way that breaks Klaus’ heart. “I loved watching Diego take you apart.”

“How you both took me apart,” Klaus says, relieved when Diego doesn’t pick up on the slip, just reacts by flipping Klaus onto his back. It’s a move Klaus half expected, but he’s still dizzy, wishing they’d taken the time to take off their clothes. But this isn’t about that -- not now.

It’s about Klaus clinging on, legs wrapped around Diego’s waist, hands on his back and head to one side so he can watch Ben. Ben who’s knelt at the side of the bed, never looking away from Klaus and Diego, matching their breathing, cheeks flushed and eyes dark.

Ben whose touch Klaus misses like crazy.

“I miss him,” Klaus says, giving himself up to the feeling of Diego rutting against him, no finesse, not this time, just strength and heat and forging a reconnection.

Diego doesn’t reply, just keeps moving, grace and power combining until Klaus’ head is spinning, heat burning through his body, his heart thundering as he pants for breath, Diego relentless as he pushes them both to the edge -- and then over, Ben’s cry matching Klaus’ own.

And then later, when Klaus is lying, damp and spent, Ben a dim figure ready to slip away, Diego says simply, “I miss him, too.”

All Klaus can say is, “I know.”


End file.
